


Man-to-Man Coverage

by redxcranberry



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Sports, Humor, Idiots in Love, Incredibly Self-Indulgent, Light Angst, M/M, Strangers to Lovers, are sports bar AUs a thing?, if not they should be, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:35:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25601458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redxcranberry/pseuds/redxcranberry
Summary: He’s tall and in unbelievably good shape, his artfully tousled, flaming red hair framing a handsome, freckled face. A skintight white T-shirt bearing the restaurant’s logo graces his broad chest, his toned arms casually balancing a serving tray between them. As the man draws closer, Felix can’t help but stare at the pair of scandalously short, construction cone orange shorts that cling to his near perfect ass, leaving very little to the imagination.“Welcome to Hooters!” the man says with a playful grin. “My name’s Sylvain, and I’ll be serving you this evening.”Or: The Blue Lions are a football team, Sylvain is a waiter at a certain chicken wing establishment, and Felix gets a lot more than he bargained for.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 97
Kudos: 326





	1. Chapter 1

“I can’t believe you talked me into this,” Felix mutters under his breath, frowning. He bundles his coat tight around his body as they walk up the sidewalk toward the restaurant, the crisp winter air biting at his exposed skin.

“They really do have good food." Claude laughs and reaches for the door. Felix rolls his eyes. He trusts his roommate, but he’s already getting a feeling he’s going to regret this. “Plus, I have a friend who works here,” Claude continues. “We can get the employee discount!”

The door swings open, and all of Felix’s senses are simultaneously overwhelmed. A wall of warm air hits them as they step inside, and the first thing Felix notices is the overpowering scent of buffalo wings mingled with beer. The raucous shouts of tipsy patrons seated at the restaurant’s bar nearly drown out the faint sound of classic rock being piped in through the speakers, and Felix is just about to make up an excuse to bail entirely when a peppy voice greets them from behind the host stand.

“Hello, and welcome to Hooters!” the girl exclaims, her bubblegum pink pigtails swaying from side to side as she absentmindedly fiddles with the pen between her fingers. “How can I help you?”

“Table for two, please,” Claude replies cheerfully. He flashes Felix an impish smile that very much makes Felix want to hit him.

“Right this way!”

The girl grabs a couple of menus off the stack and leads them into the main dining area, weaving between tables of chattering diners and dozens of mounted flatscreens before stopping in front of a booth set back against the wall. Claude and Felix take off their coats and slide into their seats as she sets down the menus in front of them.

“Your server will be with you shortly!” the girl says, smiling. Claude beams back at her as she leaves while Felix tries his best to disappear into the pleather booth behind him. God, he hopes he doesn’t see anyone he knows in this place.

“C’mon, Felix,” Claude laughs, “you wanted to watch the game, right?”

“Of course I do.” He crosses his arms, immensely regretting agreeing to coming in the first place. “But does it have to be here?”

“I told you,” Claude says as he picks up his menu, “you wouldn’t know it, but this is one of the best sports bars in town.”

Felix somehow seriously doubts that, but he begrudgingly opens his menu and starts to look over the appetizers section. But he’s not really here for the food, and he’s _definitely_ not here for the waitresses.

Ever since Glenn made it into the big leagues last year and signed a contract to play wide receiver for his favorite football team, the Blue Lions, Felix hasn’t missed a single game. It had always been his brother’s dream to be a professional athlete, and despite Felix’s general apathy towards sports, he’ll do anything to support Glenn. He’s even kind of learned to enjoy the game itself along the way.

The TV at their apartment is broken, hence the unfortunately necessary outing, but Felix is certainly not going to let anything stop him from seeing tonight’s matchup. It’s a much-anticipated late season Sunday night showdown between the Lions and their longtime division rival, the Golden Deer. Claude is a fervent Deer fan, and Felix is hoping that he’ll at least be able to lord his team’s victory over Claude when the night is through.

“The onion rings sound good. Or maybe the chips and queso. Hmm…” Claude muses, flipping through the pages and staring at the glossy pictures of each menu item.

Felix pauses to take stock of the room they’re seated in. The walls are nearly completely covered with sports paraphernalia. Old, fraying jerseys and faded team banners surround the giant televisions that are currently broadcasting the pregame show. There’s a steady cacophony of customers talking and laughing in the background, and each of the round tops is being attended to by one of several chipper, scantily-clad servers. Felix huffs as he watches the pink-haired girl from earlier effortlessly carry an enormous tray loaded with baskets of buffalo wings and pints of beer to the next table over, humming absent-mindedly to the dulcet tones of “Highway to Hell.”

 _If I can just get through tonight_ , Felix thinks, _I’ll never have to come here again._

“Oh.” Claude puts his menu down, motioning to someone behind Felix. “Here he is!”

Felix glances over his shoulder to see who Claude’s waving at, and his breath catches in his throat as he takes in the man walking towards them.

He’s tall and in unbelievably good shape, his artfully tousled, flaming red hair framing a handsome, freckled face. A skintight white T-shirt bearing the restaurant’s logo graces his broad chest, his toned arms casually balancing a serving tray between them. As the man draws closer, Felix can’t help but stare at the pair of scandalously short, construction cone orange shorts that cling to his near perfect ass, leaving very little to the imagination.

He’s one of the most attractive men Felix has ever seen, and he’s _exactly_ Felix’s type.

“Hey! Claude!” The redhead smiles, and Felix pretends not to notice when the man’s shorts ride up his thighs as he bends over to give Claude a quick hug. He exchanges pleasantries with Claude before he turns to look at Felix, his chocolate brown eyes boring into Felix’s pools of amber. “And who’s your friend?”

“Felix, my roommate.”

“Nice to meet you! My name’s Sylvain, and I’ll be serving you this evening.” Sylvain gives him a playful grin, and Felix’s heart rate spikes.

“Hey,” is all he can manage.

“Anything I can get you both to start off with? Maybe some drinks?”

“I’ll have a coke,” Claude says.

Felix clears his throat. “W–water is fine.”

“I’ll be right back with those, then,” he smiles before sauntering away.

“Who’s that?” Felix asks a little too quickly as soon as Sylvain is out of earshot.

Claude picks his menu back up. “I told you, my friend who works here.”

“ _That’s_ your friend?” He’s more than a little flustered.

“Yeah, we used to go to school together. Why? What’s up?”

“I guess I expected your friend who works at Hooters to be, uh, well…”

Claude raises an eyebrow.

“You know. Female.”

“Despite its reputation, this is an equal opportunity establishment,” Claude laughs. Then something clicks in Claude’s brain, and a mischievous look crosses his face. He abandons the menu to lean forward with his elbows on the table, chin resting on his clasped hands. “You’re into him, aren’t you?”

“No.” It’s not very convincing.

Claude gives him a disbelieving grin. “I never knew you had a thing for redheads.”

Now Felix _really_ wants to hit him.

He starts to reply, but before he can, a shock of ginger hair approaches from around the corner and Felix slams his mouth shut.

“Here you guys go.” Sylvain leans over the table to deposit the drinks in front of them and Felix forces himself to look straight ahead at a smirking Claude. “Coca cola for you…and water for you.”

“Now,” Sylvain says, pulling out a notepad and pen and leaning with one arm holding the serving tray against his hips in a way that Felix can’t help but notice accentuates his ass, “would you like to hear our specials for tonight?”

“Sure,” Claude says. “Give us the whole spiel.”

“Great! Well, today we’ve got buy-one-get-one half off on all our apps and a free soft drink with every entrée purchase. Plus, since tonight’s game night, we’re doing six-piece wing baskets for $5.99 until close.” He emphasizes every few words with a tap of his pen against his notepad.

“I’ll have the onion rings and the sliders,” Claude offers.

“I’ll do the wings.” Felix takes a gulp of his water.

“Sounds good!” Sylvain jots down their orders with gusto. He turns to leave, but stops in his tracks after a few steps and turns to look at Felix once more, a playful smile flitting across his face.

“How hot do you like it?”

Felix nearly chokes on his drink. His face must have looked some kind of way, because Sylvain laughs and clarifies. “You know – for your wings? We have mild buffalo sauce, original, extra hot, 911, triple dog dare…”

“Uh, original.”

“Sounds good! Coming right up. Oh, and feel free to flag me down if you need any refills.” He starts to walk away again, then looks over his shoulder and gives Felix a quick wink. “I’m happy to help if you’re thirsty.”

Felix can hardly breathe. That _had_ to be on purpose.

Claude waits until Sylvain reenters the kitchen before turning back to Felix. “Damn, Felix, I know it’s been a while for you, but you’re absolutely drooling.”

“ _Shut up_.”

“No judgment here. I’ll be the first to admit, Sylvain is a handsome guy.” Claude’s eyes light up. “Want me to put in a good word for you?”

“The game’s starting,” Felix mumbles, pointedly ignoring the question as he turns to watch the television and Claude snickers to himself.

It’s a slow start after kickoff, but halfway into the first quarter the Deer blitz down the field to score the first touchdown of the game. Claude hollers with the rest of the Deer fans in the restaurant, and when they make the extra point, he does that stupid antler thing with his fingers splayed out behind his head that Felix hates so much. But soon enough, the Lions gain their footing and it’s all tied up, each team fighting hard to prevail over its rival.

Felix and Claude order a few beers and munch away on the onion rings and buffalo wings, and as the night goes by, Felix has to admit that honestly, watching the game with other people isn’t nearly as bad as he thought it would be. In fact, it’s even kind of fun. He cheers and gasps with the rest of the fans whenever there’s a dramatic play, the energy in the restaurant pumping him up for whenever the Blue Lions are on a hot streak. He chats with the restaurant’s patrons and gets to know some of the other fans. When Glenn catches a touchdown pass to put the Blue Lions ahead at the end of the third, Felix even whoops and high-fives a short-haired blonde wearing a Blue Lions jersey at the table next to them, much to Claude’s amusement. It’s a close game, and Felix finds himself almost completely engrossed in rooting for his brother and the rest of the Lions.

That is, aside from every time he catches sight of Sylvain.

Sylvain stops by every once in a while to deliver their food, refill their drinks, or just hang out when he has a moment to spare. They chat, and Felix learns that Sylvain is from up north, just like him. He’s into working out ( _and it shows,_ Felix thinks), musical theatre (a bit more unexpected), and he’s also a Blue Lions fan (much to Claude’s chagrin). Whenever Felix asks him a question, Sylvain peppers his answers with flirty one-liners and stupid jokes and quick smiles, yet despite all that, Felix finds himself intrigued and more than a little attracted to him.

Finally, the clock runs out and the Blue Lions end up on top. It’s been a great night – really great, actually, considering how unenthusiastic Felix had been at the start – and Felix feels a bit sad for some reason when the restaurant starts to clear out and Sylvain brings them the check. They pay for their meals, and Sylvain stops by one last time to give them their receipts and say goodbye.

“Nice to see you, Claude!” Sylvain waves to them as they put on their coats and head for the door. “And nice to meet you, Felix.”

“Nice to meet you,” Felix says, blushing. He prays Sylvain doesn’t notice.

The walk back to their apartment is uneventful, other than some light ribbing from Claude and more than a little grumbling from Felix. He’d die before letting Claude know, but he just can’t get Sylvain out of his head. He can’t help but think that they had some sort of personal connection, not to mention how hot Sylvain is.

 _It’s his job to flirt with customers_ , Felix tells himself over and over, _he’s probably like that with everyone. Don’t be stupid and get feelings for a fucking Hooters waiter._

When they get home, Felix bids Claude goodnight before entering his bedroom and sighing heavily, trying to collect his thoughts. Normally, he’d just be ecstatic that the Blue Lions won and Glenn had a good game, but he’s a bit distracted at the moment.

Felix absentmindedly shrugs off his coat and is reaching up to hang it on its hook when he sees a small tab of paper flutter to the floor out of the corner of his eye – his customer copy of the bill from dinner. He bends down to pick it up and moves to throw it in the trash bin next to his side table, but something in the bottom right corner of the paper catches his attention.

The ink is a bit smudged from being crumpled and stashed in his pocket, but Felix can just make out what’s scrawled in slanted, looping handwriting:

_Text me sometime? ;)_

_212-605-1160_

_\- Sylvain_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't stop thinking about Felix's reaction to Sylvain in a Hooters uniform, so here we are. This is the silliest thing I've ever written, and that's saying something! 
> 
> Also, this started off as a oneshot and then I got in way too deep, so expect similar shenanigans to follow :)
> 
> Twitter: [@redxcranberry](https://twitter.com/redxcranberry)


	2. Chapter 2

Felix doesn’t text Sylvain that night. Or the next day. Or the next.

The fact is, he should. He even _wants_ to. He’s never felt such an instant attraction to someone, and he’s secretly over the moon that Sylvain seems to have felt the same way – or at least he was interested enough in Felix to leave him his number. But a nagging part of Felix’s brain is also telling him that it’s a bad idea, that it won’t work out, that Sylvain has probably already forgotten about him by now and he’s missed his chance. He walks around all week with Sylvain’s note heavy in his pocket like lead, taking it out every once in a while to stare at it and run his fingers over the ever-deepening creases from folding and unfolding the paper repeatedly. On several different occasions, Felix gets as far as entering Sylvain’s number in his phone and writing the first line of a text before deleting the entire message without sending anything, unsure of what he’s even supposed to say. He’s not exactly adept at starting conversations, and he’s especially inexperienced at flirting.

Five days have passed since they first met when Felix is walking back to his apartment after class one afternoon, distracted and not really paying attention to what streets he’s going down. He’s about to turn a corner when he looks up and sees it – his feet have carried him straight to Sylvain’s workplace.

The sight makes him stop dead in his tracks, causing another pedestrian to curse at him to get out of the way on the busy sidewalk. Felix ignores him, lost in an internal conflict.

On one hand, he’s worried Sylvain won’t want anything to do with him after waiting for Felix to contact him for so long. On the other, he really does want to see Sylvain again. And he’s kind of hungry, anyway – he might as well get something to eat while he’s here. He could just say he was in the neighborhood and decided to drop by – no need to make a big deal about it.

 _Fuck it,_ Felix thinks. Feeling adventurous, he opens the door and steps in.

He surreptitiously scans restaurant as he enters, searching for that distinctive flash of ginger hair that’s been branded into his mind’s eye for the better part of the past week. It’s quieter this time, with not nearly as many patrons present during the afternoon lull between lunch and the dinnertime rush.

Felix approaches the host stand. The pink-haired girl isn’t here today, instead replaced by a taller brunette with flowing, wavy hair and dangly earrings.

“Hello, and welcome to Hooters!” She delivers the standard corporate line in an almost singsong voice, surveying Felix in a way that makes him feel like he’s already made a huge mistake. “How can I help you?”

“Uh, hi,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck and glancing from side to side, “Is Sylvain here?”

“Oh, Syl? No, he’s off today.”

“Oh,” Felix says, feeling a little deflated.

She leans against the host stand, eyeing Felix curiously. “I can take a message for him. Who’s asking?”

“No one,” Felix says reflexively, and the girl raises an eyebrow, “just a friend.”

Is that a lie? They’ve only met once, so they’re not really friends, but what are they? Felix doesn’t know.

She’s giving him a questioning stare and Felix is feeling stupider and stupider by the second, so he adds, “Felix. My name is Felix.”

“So, Felix,” the girl smirks, twirling a strand of her hair between her fingers, “can I get you anything, or…?”

 _Shit_. Felix hadn’t actually considered what he’d do if Sylvain wasn’t at the restaurant. He doesn’t exactly want to sit down and eat by himself, but it is getting close to dinner time and he’s already here, so…

“I’ll get an order of the extra hot wings. To go.”

“To go.” The girl repeats, monotone.

“Yes.”

She looks him up and down again, amused. “You know, we don’t get many people ordering take out from Hooters.”

“Why not?” Felix asks defensively, and she gives him her most piercing stare yet. She looks like she’s going to say something, but thinks better of it and instead turns to shout over her shoulder towards the kitchen.

“Lin! One order of extra hot wings to go for our friend Felix here.”

A lanky, green-haired man in a cook’s uniform emerges from the kitchen, propping himself up on the doorframe as if half asleep. He yawns and stares at Felix with bleary eyes. “Alright, alright. Coming right up.”

Felix pays for his order and leans against the wall to wait as the hostess turns her attention to another customer. After a few minutes, the green-haired man reemerges from the kitchen with Felix’s food and hands it to him, looking absolutely blazed out of his mind. Felix thanks him then takes his order and steps back outside into the city street.

Despite Felix’s best efforts, Sylvain remains stuck on his mind the entire walk back to his apartment. He’s beginning to realize that his crush isn’t just going to go away by itself. No more chickening out – he’s going to text Sylvain.

Felix’s food is already cold when he gets home, so he throws the container in the microwave and presses reheat. He leans against the kitchen counter and pulls out his phone as the wings pop and sizzle over the low hum of the machine behind him. Steeling himself, Felix punches in his number once again – he’s nearly memorized it by now, to tell the truth – and stares at the screen, hoping the right words will come to him. After much deliberation, he settles on keeping it short and sweet.

 **Felix:** Hey. It’s Felix

It takes a minute, but Felix nearly drops his phone when he hears the distinctive ping that means he’s gotten a new message

 **Sylvain:** hey! :) was hoping I’d hear from you!

 **Sylvain:** thea told me you stopped by the restaurant looking for me? ;)

Thea must be the hostess. Word travels fast, apparently. Felix prays she didn’t tell Sylvain anything too embarrassing.

 **Felix:** Yeah. Was in the neighborhood and decided to stop in

 **Felix:** Sorry I missed you

 **Sylvain:** oh no worries. sorry I wasn’t there!

 **Sylvain:** so what’s up?

Felix hears the microwave beep and he takes out his food, carrying it over to the kitchen table while texting with his free hand.

 **Felix:** Not much. How about you?

 **Sylvain:** i was just thinking about the other night actually

Felix feels his heart rate start to pick up, staring intently at the three little bubbles that indicate Sylvain’s still typing.

**Sylvain:** i’d love to meet up again, while i’m not on the clock

 **Sylvain:** would you want to watch the game together?

 _Yes,_ Felix thinks, _I would like that very much._

 **Felix:** Definitely

 **Sylvain:** how does meeting at the same spot at 5:00 tomorrow sound?

**Felix:** I’ll be there

**Sylvain:** awesome. see you :)

Felix types out “ _See you there”_ and even adds a rare exclamation point for emphasis _._ He presses send, smiling softly to himself as he munches away on his wings.

❖❖❖

The next day, Felix spends significantly longer than usual getting ready to go out, double and triple-checking that his sleeveless black turtleneck is wrinkle-free, his white and teal overcoat is spotless, and his inky hair is meticulously pulled back in his usual tight bun. He knows he’s being ridiculous – this is Hooters, after all, not a five-star restaurant – but he wants to look good for what he’s 90% sure is his first date in months.

He arrives at the restaurant ten minutes early and waits outside, leaning against the exterior wall and checking his watch every thirty seconds. At 5:00 on the dot, he hears someone call his name and turns to see a familiar freckled face coming around the corner.

Sylvain is in a tight gray T-shirt and fitted black jeans, his torso wrapped in a loosely buttoned, burgundy wool coat that looks cozy enough to use as a blanket. He looks great – really great – though Felix does lament that Sylvain’s current getup shows significantly less skin than his work uniform.

As he draws closer, he gives Felix a peppy little wave. “Hey, Felix!”

“Hey,” Felix nods his head in acknowledgment. He’s not sure if he’s supposed to go for a handshake or a hug or something else entirely, but that problem is solved for him when Sylvain instead reaches for the door.

Sylvain motions inside, holding the door open for Felix. “It’s a little chilly out. Come in and warm up?”

“Good idea.” Felix nods, walking past Sylvain and into the restaurant once more. He realizes with a jolt that this is the third time in one week he’s been to Hooters. This isn’t exactly the kind of place he ever would have imagined becoming a regular at, but he supposes stranger things have happened.

“Afternoon, Dorothea.” Sylvain says with a smile.

“Syl!” the hostess exclaims, laughing. “And I see you’ve brought your friend. Nice to see you again, Felix.” There’s something funny about the way she says the word _friend_ , and Felix’s suspicions are only heightened when she leads them to their table and gives Sylvain a conspiratorial wink. “You kids have fun!”

The game is just kicking off when Felix and Sylvain order a few drinks and start to make small talk. The Blue Lions are playing one of the league’s recent expansion teams tonight – a new franchise from down south called the Ashen Wolves. Felix has to admit that wolves are a pretty badass mascot – he’s always considered himself somewhat of a lone wolf, metaphorically – but his loyalties still lie with Glenn and his teammates.

“So,” Sylvain leans in with both arms on the table, “I never properly introduced myself the other night. Sylvain Gautier, at your service!” He laughs, faking a salute, and Felix feels a small smirk creep across his face despite how incredibly dorky Sylvain is. “Well, I’m not actually your server this time, but – you get the idea.”

“Felix Fraldarius,” Felix offers.

“Wait – Fraldarius? That name sounds familiar. Any relation to–”

Felix is used to this question. He’s gotten it dozens of times over – it comes with the territory of being related to a major sports superstar. This is usually around when the person talking to him stops caring about anything Felix-related and the conversation ends up being entirely focused around Glenn. And as much as he loves Glenn, a part of him winces every time people see him as Glenn’s little brother first and his own person second.

“Yeah. Glenn Fraldarius is my brother.”

“Wow,” Sylvain says, shaking his head, “wish my brother were that cool.”

“You have a brother too?”

“Kind of,” Sylvain’s expression darkens. “But he hasn’t exactly ever been brotherly to me, that’s for sure.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.” Felix regrets asking in the first place.

“Don’t be.” Sylvain is grinning again, but it doesn’t reach the corners of his eyes. “We’re here to get to know each other, not talk about our brothers. Tell me about yourself.”

Felix gives Sylvain a small smile, and this time Sylvain’s smile back is genuine.

They talk, and Felix learns that there’s much more to Sylvain than looking ridiculously good in uniform. He’s smart, for one, and he seems genuinely interested in anything Felix has to say no matter how boring Felix is afraid his responses are. When the subject turns to their hobbies, Sylvain acts like Felix’s interest in medieval weaponry is the coolest thing in the world, and Felix is similarly intrigued by Sylvain’s penchant for art history. Normally, Felix has to admit that couldn’t care less about that kind of thing, but for some reason he finds himself hanging on to Sylvain’s every word.

They’re supposedly there to watch the game, but as the night goes on, Felix finds Sylvain infinitely more captivating than anything that’s on the screen. He’s not sure if it’s the several beers he’s had or just the effect Sylvain seems to have on him whenever they lock eyes, but he finds himself laughing at Sylvain’s witty responses and blushing at his charming smile so frequently that he feels like a bashful schoolgirl. Something about Sylvain just _clicks_ with him like nothing else has. And that’s not even taking into account the way Sylvain stares back at him, his gaze making the hairs on the back of Felix's neck stand up as he checks him out in return.

Finally, the game ends and the Blue Lions pull off another victory, though Felix couldn’t say what the score was considering he’s been more than a little distracted all night. When Sylvain offers to accompany Felix back to Felix’s apartment, he readily accepts, glad for any excuse to prolong their night.

After what feels like no time at all, they reach Felix’s apartment door. Felix turns to face Sylvain. “Well, here we are.”

“Oh.” Sylvain seems to hesitate, but he recovers and takes a step towards Felix. “You know, I had a great time tonight.”

“Me too,” Felix says. He’s never been more truthful.

“Well, guess I’ll see you around?”

They’re standing so close together that Felix can feel the heat radiating off of Sylvain in the cool night air. He looks upward at those deep, hypnotic mahogany eyes staring back into his, and Felix finds the courage to do what he’s been dreaming about ever since they first met.

He grabs onto Sylvain’s shoulders and the world tilts with him, his hands finding purchase in the plush fabric of Sylvain’s overcoat. Sylvain is shocked still for a moment, but he catches on quickly and pulls Felix into his arms, gently tilting Felix’s jaw upwards and leaning in to close the distance between them.

As their lips touch, Felix is overwhelmed by several things simultaneously – Sylvain’s scent, all leather and citrus and teakwood, enveloping Felix like a familiar down blanket; the warmth of Sylvain’s chest against his, mirrored in the ruddy blush blossoming across his cheeks; the way Sylvain’s large, steady hands send shivers down his spine as he caresses Felix’s shoulders and holds him tight; the taste of Sylvain’s tongue, sinfully sweet as they sway on the spot, wrapped up and entangled in one another like braided twine.

After what feels like a blissful eternity, Felix breaks away from Sylvain for air. The way Sylvain’s looking at him, like he could take him right here and now, has Felix wanting – no, _needing_ – more.

“Actually,” Felix whispers. “It’s a little chilly out. Come in and warm up?”

“Good idea,” Sylvain enthuses.

Felix reaches for his keychain to unlock the door. He fumbles with the key in the lock as Sylvain starts to bite little love marks up and down his nape with increasing intensity, growing more and more impatient. When Felix finally gets it to open despite the considerable distraction of Sylvain’s teeth nibbling on his earlobe, the two very nearly tumble inside together in a heap. Mercifully, Claude’s not home judging from the empty coat rack by the entrance, so Felix leads Sylvain by the hand, making a beeline for Felix’s room.

They’re on each other again in seconds after Felix shuts the door, Sylvain gently but insistently pinning Felix up against the wall, his breath hot and heavy. Felix moans sharply as Sylvain nudges a knee in between Felix’s legs and pushes up against his groin, dipping his head down to bite at Felix’s exposed collarbone.

“B-bed,” Felix chokes out, motioning towards the opposite side of the room.

Sylvain gets the message and nearly trips over himself taking off his clothes as he spreads out on top of the covers, throwing his shirt and jeans onto Felix’s floor with abandon. Pulling off his coat and tossing it aside, Felix follows suit and disrobes. He joins Sylvain on the bed, scrambling over Sylvain’s bare thighs so that he’s straddling him.

A shaky sigh leaves Sylvain’s lips at the sight of Felix’s already half-hard cock. “Fuck, Felix.” Sylvain gazes back at him, wide-eyed and lustful, and Felix swears he’s never felt as alive as he does when he leans in and slips his tongue in Sylvain’s mouth once more.

Several wet and sloppy minutes later, Felix breaks away to grab a bottle of lube from the nightstand. He sits with his back against the headboard to pour some oil on his hand in full view of a mesmerized Sylvain, then tosses the bottle over to Sylvain and reaches down to start toying at his entrance. Normally he’d take his sweet time warming up, but he delights in the way Sylvain’s pupils widen when he steadily pushes in one slick finger, then two, then three, until he’s trembling around his own hand.

“Like what you see?” Felix teases, panting lightly as he fucks himself open.

“Yeah,” Sylvain rasps, his own hand lazily working at his slick, leaking length.

Felix curls his fingers to hit just the right spot inside and curses, whimpering high and clear.

“ _Holy shit,_ ” Sylvain inhales sharply, staring hungrily at Felix as he increases his strokes.

Felix gazes at Sylvain, his eyelids fluttering open and shut. “Come help, then.”

Those are apparently the words Sylvain has been waiting to hear – nearly as soon as the command has left Felix’s lips, Sylvain slides himself across the bed and slots himself in between Felix’s spread legs. Felix watches as Sylvain adds one of his own fingers to rub up against Felix’s twisting digits and _fuck_ , Felix is half afraid he’s going to come right then and there as Sylvain hums, pumping in and out faster and faster.

“ _Ngh_ ,” Felix moans unashamedly. The heat in the pit of his stomach intensifies at the delicious fullness of Sylvain’s fingers.

“You like that, sweetheart?” Sylvain grins.

Felix would normally balk at the pet name, but it just sounds _right_ coming from Sylvain’s lips. Pushing all shame aside, Felix nods frantically, too full for words. He grabs Sylvain by the waist and pulls him closer. Sylvain, thankfully, gets the hint – he removes his hand, leaving Felix gasping for more, then slides his thick cock in all at once.

Felix absolutely wails, his back forming a gorgeous, perfect arc. He claws at Sylvain’s shoulders, stars twinkling into view behind his eyelids as the redhead and thrusts in again and again, adopting a punishing pace that renders Felix incoherent. Felix wraps his arms around Sylvain’s waist to grab at his perfect ass and groans, finally fulfilling the fantasy he’s had ever since he first laid eyes on Sylvain in those damn shorts.

 _“Felix_ ,” Sylvain breathes, his thrusts growing more and more erratic. Their sweaty bodies slide against one another in tandem and Sylvain growls, low and dangerous, sending an electric shock straight into Felix’s system.

“ _Sylvain_ ,” Felix whines and writhes below him, his entire body trembling, folded in on itself against the mattress by Sylvain’s weight. They’re both panting now, desperately out of breath. “ _Fuck_ , I’m close.”

“Come for me, baby.” Sylvain reaches down to tug once, twice, three times at Felix’s cock.

It’s just enough to push him over the edge. Felix’s orgasm washes over him in swells of sweet relief that threaten to drown him in pleasure. He lets out one last desperate cry and vaguely registers Sylvain pulling out to jerk himself off, cursing and shooting his release all over Felix’s stomach and the sheets. They collapse on the bed together in a huddled heap and stare into each other’s eyes, their breathing labored, caught up in the aftershocks of a kind of ecstasy unlike any Felix has ever felt before.

After what feels like a blissful eternity, Sylvain props himself up on his elbows. He moves a few stray strands of his fiery hair out of his eyes, wiping at the sheen of sweat covering his forehead with the back of his hand. “Have fun?” Sylvain asks cheekily.

Felix’s whole body feels heavy, hazy. He raises his head to look at Sylvain through half-lidded eyes, and the redhead stares back at him with a wicked grin.

“Yeah,” Felix smiles softly, leaning in to kiss Sylvain once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me, 3.3K words into what was supposed to be a 2.5K chapter: whoops ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Dorothea knows exactly what she's doing. She is the best wingwoman in all of Fódlan/Hooters, after all (Fodters? Hoodlan? Who knows).
> 
> Come scream about Sylvix with me on Twitter at [@redxcranberry](https://twitter.com/redxcranberry)! Also, grazie mille to [Ren](https://twitter.com/hanzohoemada) for beta'ing and brainstorming. <3


	3. Chapter 3

The morning sun is already streaming through the blinds when Felix wakes up. The first thing he notices is a solid, comfortable warmth pressed against him and something heavy draped across his side – Sylvain’s broad chest against his back and Sylvain’s freckled arm encircling his waist.

Taking care not to wake him, Felix delicately extricates himself from Sylvain’s sleepy embrace. The events of the previous night slowly come back to him as he yawns and rubs his eyes. He stands up and gets dressed, watching with fond amusement as a still dozing Sylvain blindly grabs at the empty spot Felix left behind, latching onto his pillow and pulling it close. Felix takes one last look at the reclining redhead before making his way to the kitchen to brew some coffee.

Sylvain is just stirring when Felix returns. The sound of the door closing seems to rouse him in earnest and he props himself up on his elbows, rubbing the sleep from his eyes to blearily squint up at Felix.

“Morning, sunshine.” Felix can’t help but smile at the dazed look on Sylvain’s face. “Want any coffee?”

“Mm,” Sylvain grunts, burying his face back into Felix’s pillow.

“Was that a ‘yes’?”

Sylvain answers with a low groan.

“Are you going to get up, or are you planning to just laze around in bed all day?”

Sylvain peeks up at him through wayward strands of ginger hair, a crooked grin creeping across his face. “I was planning on spending more time in bed, actually…as long as you’ll join me.” Sylvain extends his arm, his fingers reaching out for Felix.

It’s an invitation that Felix finds too enticing to pass up. He leans down to meet Sylvain’s lips and lets Sylvain drag him back down onto the bed, all thoughts of coffee long forgotten.

❖❖❖

After that first night, they fall into a routine. Sylvain either comes over Felix’s place late in the day after work, or Felix goes over to Sylvain’s studio apartment when he wants a change of scenery. Sometimes, they just hang out and cuddle while watching Netflix or playing video games together. Most of the time, they end up doing more…explicit activities.

Of course, their relationship consists of much more than just sex, even if fucking each other senseless does take up a significant amount of their free time together.

Sundays are usually game days, so Sunday quickly becomes Felix’s favorite day of the week because that means he’ll get to see Sylvain. If Sylvain has the day off work, they meet up to watch the game together. The television at Felix’s place is still busted, so Felix makes a habit of going to Sylvain’s apartment to nibble on fried food and cheer on Glenn and the rest of the team. If Sylvain’s working that day, Felix drops by Hooters to hang out with Sylvain when he has a moment of free time or catches him after Sylvain’s shift is finished.

Over time, Felix even gets to know several of Sylvain’s friends and coworkers. There’s Hilda, the short, pink-haired hostess who occasionally no-call no-shows but can haul trays loaded with food and drinks across the restaurant like nobody’s business; Linhardt, a quiet, curious stoner who mans the kitchen along with a few other cooks and slips Felix free food when no one is looking; and of course Dorothea, who is the star of the show whenever the restaurant hosts karaoke nights and continues tease Felix and Sylvain every chance she gets. They’re an eccentric yet welcoming crew, and Felix quickly comes to consider them friends of his own.

There’s just one little problem.

That problem, of course, is named Claude von Riegan.

Logically, Felix knows that Claude wouldn’t care if he found out he was dating Sylvain, even if Claude was friends with Sylvain before Felix ever met him. Claude has only ever wanted the best for him, and Felix is pretty sure he’d be ecstatic that Felix has finally found someone he likes enough to call his boyfriend. In fact, Claude had even encouraged him to pursue Sylvain in the first place after noticing Felix’s immediate infatuation with the server. Yet every time Felix starts to consider telling him that he and Sylvain are an item, his mind flashes back to that irritating, know-it-all, von Riegan signature grin Claude always has on his face when it comes to discussing matters of Felix’s love life.

Sylvain even offers to tell Claude himself, but Felix is adamant he should be the one to tell his own roommate. He supposes Claude is bound to find out eventually – it’s just that Felix sure isn’t looking forward to that conversation.

But Claude knows _something_ is up – he’s been giving Felix knowing smiles and asking prying questions ever since he noticed that Felix has been taking extra care of his appearance and leaving the apartment much more often than usual instead of shutting himself in his room every night.

It’s on one such evening that Felix is getting ready to see Sylvain at Hooters. He’s standing in front of the hallway mirror and giving himself one last once-over when Claude walks in with arms full of groceries. He gives Felix a curious glance.

“Someone looks nice today,” Claude observes, setting the bags down on the counter. “What’s the occasion?”

“Nothing,” Felix answers. “Just going out.”

“Going out where?”

Felix tucks a stray strand of hair behind his ear. “To eat.”

“Felix,” Claude says slowly, a grin creeping across his face, “are you going on a date?”

Felix huffs, turning away from the mirror to grab his coat.

That’s confirmation enough for Claude, who tilts his head mischievously. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

“I’ll see you later, Claude.”

“Fine. Keep your secrets!” Claude calls after him, laughing as Felix steps out the door.

Felix and Sylvain get back to Felix’s apartment late that night, both of them trying their best to tiptoe through the living room and down the hallway to get to Felix’s bedroom. At one point, Sylvain stubs his toe on the corner of Felix’s display of authentic two-handed medieval sword replicas and curses, loudly. The steel of the weapons clanking against one another is like a thunderclap in the quiet apartment, and they stand stock-still for a moment, holding their breaths. But Claude seems to have slept right through it, and Felix lets out a sigh of relief.

Somehow, Felix manages to sneak Sylvain out of the apartment before Claude wakes up the next morning. There’s more than a little grumbling and whining from a tired Sylvain, who isn’t used to getting up on the front side of noon, but it all goes relatively smoothly, and soon enough Sylvain is out the door with Claude none the wiser.

That is, until half an hour later when Felix and Claude are making breakfast and someone starts knocking at their door. Felix looks at Claude, who simply shrugs as Felix walks over to answer it.

“Hey babe,” Sylvain says casually as he strolls in. “Sorry to drop back in unannounced, but I think I forgot my phone in your ro–” Sylvain spots Claude over Felix’s shoulder and stops in his tracks, his mouth hanging open. “Oh. Hey Claude.”

Claude’s eyebrows shoot up his forehead in surprise for a split second before he composes himself, a roguish grin settling across his face. “Well,” Claude smiles, “I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone.”

Felix can feel his cheeks turning as red as Sylvain’s hair. Claude snickers, mouthing the word _nice_ and giving Felix an exaggerated wink before ducking into his room and closing the door.

Sylvain brings a hand up to the back of his neck, flashing a coy smile at Felix. “Oops.”

❖❖❖

It doesn’t take long for the news to spread.

Felix is in the grocery store deli aisle later that day, lost in thought while comparing and contrasting the qualities of a variety of cured meats, when he feels his phone buzzing in his pocket. Had Sylvain left something else at his apartment, too? As much as Felix loves seeing him, he hopes Sylvain won’t make a habit of being so forgetful.

He pulls out his phone and sees it’s actually another, much smaller redhead. Felix accepts the call, raising the phone to his ear as he inspects the label on some spicy sautéed jerky.

“Felix!” Annette’s voice is so loud on the other end of the line that Felix winces, moving the phone a few inches away from his head to protect his hearing from Annette’s happy shrieks. “I didn’t know you were dating someone!”

“Annette,” Felix is happy to hear the voice of one of his oldest friends, but he also knows Annette tends to go a little over the top when it comes to hounding him about his love life. “Yeah. Sorry I didn’t mention it. His name is Sylvain, and we’ve been seeing each other for about a month,” Felix says. “Claude told you, didn’t he?”

“Maybe,” Annette says, tittering with excitement. “I’m so happy for you, Felix! Where did you meet him?”

This is the part of this conversation he’s been dreading. Felix could just lie and come up with something far less embarrassing than what actually happened – he could say they ran into each other at the gym and hit it off, or had a class together, or matched on some dating app…but he can’t do that to Annette. The truth is bound to come out eventually – Claude will make sure of that if he doesn’t say it himself. He grits his teeth, mumbling as softly as he can. “At Hooters.”

“WHAT?”

“Annette–”

“Felix Fraldarius! What on earth were you doing at–”

“Claude dragged me there to watch the Lions game, okay? Sylvain was our waiter, and, well…”

“Oh gosh,” Annette is laughing now, her loud, unbridled joy crackling over the receiver, “a Hooters waiter? He must be quite the catch. Mercie is going to _love_ this.”

Felix groans. “Just…don’t go around telling everyone and their mother about this, alright?”

“Will do!” Annette says. “Or, won’t do. Er – you know what I mean.”

“Yeah,” Felix sighs, bringing a hand to his forehead. “Thanks.”

“Your secret is safe with me!”

Felix bids Annette goodbye and hangs up, feeling very much like he’d like to crawl into a hole and disappear as he tosses the meat into his cart and heads for the check out.

❖❖❖

The next week, Felix finally decides it’s time to replace the old, broken television that had resulted in his fateful first trip to Hooters. He gets a brand new one and tosses the old one in the trash, silently thanking the inanimate object for its service.

Felix invites Sylvain over that Sunday afternoon to come test out the new television by watching the Blue Lions play. It’s the last game of the regular season, and they’ve been on a winning streak lately with the playoffs just around the corner.

But Felix and Sylvain are only half paying attention to what’s on the screen. They’re mostly just enjoying each other’s company. Felix spends most of the game sprawled on the couch in the living room with Sylvain, his feet on the cushions and his head laying across Sylvain’s lap. Eventually, Sylvain gets up to refill their drinks, but on his way back he stops in his tracks in front of the bookshelf in the corner.

“Whoa.”

Sylvain is holding something in his hands, examining the object closely. Felix sits up and realizes it’s a framed photo of him and Glenn from back when they were kids. In it, a baby faced, preteen Felix is hugging Glenn around the waist. One of Glenn’s hands is ruffling Felix’s inky hair, while the other arm rests on the shoulders of a tall, blond boy with piercing blue eyes. All three of them are smiling, Felix gazing up in joyful reverence at the two larger boys.

“What?”

“You know Dimitri Blaiddyd? _The_ Dimitri Blaiddyd, MVP quarterback for the Blue Lions?” Sylvain shakes his head in disbelief, staring in awe at the blond boy in the photo.

“Oh. Yeah. He’s a family friend. He and Glenn and I – we basically grew up together.”

Felix supposes that sometimes it’s easy for him to forget that Dimitri is one of the sport’s biggest stars. Even after Dimitri became one of the most sought-after prospects in college football, even after he was drafted in the first round to make it into the pros, even after he started getting millions of dollars’ worth of sponsorship deals – Felix still sees him as the same little boy who used to toss a ball around with him and Glenn. Dimitri had always been the strongest and most athletic out of the three of them, that’s for sure, and that distance was only emphasized as they all grew older. As a result, it was no surprise when Dimitri received a multi-million-dollar contract to play for the Blue Lions shortly after Glenn had done the same for a much smaller sum. Football analysts had nicknamed Dimitri ‘The Prince’ – a title fit for sports royalty, they had said. Destined for greatness. But he’s always just been Dima to Felix.

“Man, Blaiddyd is like…the most famous player in the league. What’s he like?” Sylvain asks, setting the photo back down.

Felix hesitates. “He’s nice. Tall. Kind of awkward, actually.”

“Huh.” Sylvain laughs. “Guess even celebrities aren’t that different from everyone else after all.”

“I guess.”

“So,” Sylvain says, turning back to Felix. “I’ve been thinking…that we should go on a real date tonight.”

“A real date?” Felix questions. “Have all of our dates so far been fake?”

“Of course not. But you know, a date somewhere fancy. The only place we’ve gone out to eat together is, well, Hooters. I figured we could use a change of scenery.”

Sylvain has a point. Felix can’t deny that their current haunt lacks a certain _je ne sais quoi_ in terms of class. “What do you have in mind?”

“There’s this nice restaurant not too far from here that I’ve been meaning to try,” Sylvain says. “Would you want to check it out together?”

❖❖❖

And that’s how they end up at a cozy little Italian joint called _La Stemma di Fuoco._ It’s cute, with pressed white tablecloths and tiny, flickering candles on each of the tables. The walls are decorated with oil paintings of idyllic countrysides and sprawling, incredibly detailed castles and cathedrals. Felix even swears that he sees a dragon painted in the distance of one of the landscapes depicting an old medieval monastery.

Sylvain orders the spaghetti carbonara and Felix gets the osso buco, both of them sipping on red wine and enjoying fresh bread with olive oil and vinegar. After their meals, which are by far the best thing Felix has tasted in weeks, they order another round of drinks.

Felix is having so much fun that he doesn’t even notice until a few hours in that his phone is out of battery – he must have forgotten to charge it before leaving earlier. It’s alright, though – he’s more than happy to be able to disconnect and appreciate the man in front of him instead of habitually checking his phone every few minutes. He’d much rather focus on how Sylvain’s dimples come out when he smiles, or the way Sylvain’s eyes scrunch up when he’s telling a good joke, or the electric currents that run up and down his spine when Sylvain reaches over the table to take Felix’s hand in his. They talk late into the night, the candle in the middle of their table slowly flickering down until it’s almost burnt out completely.

After dinner, Sylvain walks Felix home. He gives Felix a hug and plants a quick kiss on his forehead before letting go.

“See you tomorrow? If you have time to come hang out with us while I’m working, Hilda told me one of her friends is coming in to try the all-you-can-eat hot wing challenge,” Sylvain laughs. “She says he’s got arms the size of barrels and can out eat a horse.”

Felix snorts. That’s not usually the kind of thing he’d find entertaining, but Sylvain seems excited for it. And it does sound like a rather impressive, if disgusting, feat. He supposes he can make room in his schedule – even if the real reason is just to spend as much time as possible with Sylvain.

“Sure. See you tomorrow,” Felix confirms, smiling as the redhead turns the corner and disappears from view.

Felix bounds up the stairs up to his apartment two at a time, happier than he’s been in months. He’s really starting to think he and Sylvain have something genuine together – something he’s never quite experienced before. He blushes at the memory of Sylvain’s kiss, hoping that the red flush across his cheeks isn’t too noticeable as he opens the door.

When he steps in, he’s surprised to see Claude and Annette standing in the living room together, their backs towards him. Claude is holding his phone up to his ear, but when he hears Felix enter, he turns around and lets his arm fall to his side.

There’s something off about Claude’s expression – something that Felix is struggling to comprehend. Annette is next to Claude, her head hanging down towards the floor, and as Felix draws closer, he’s shocked to see her tiny frame wracked by heavy sobs, tears falling freely down her face.

Felix looks back and forth between the two of them, confused. “What’s going on?”

“Felix,” Claude’s voice is low and full of trepidation. The way he raises his hands and slowly approaches Felix is as if he’s talking to a cornered animal. “We’ve been trying to call you, but you weren’t picking up your phone.”

“My phone was dead,” Felix says cautiously, trying to assess the situation. “And Annette – what are you doing here? What’s wrong?”

Annette bursts into tears anew in response. “I’m so sorry, Felix,” Annette hiccups, wiping away at the corners of her leaking eyes, “I rushed over as soon as I heard. I’m so, so sorry…”

“What happened?”

The two just stare back at him, mortified, and Felix feels panic starting to settle in. It doesn’t make sense. Why aren’t they saying anything? “Tell me what’s going on,” Felix demands, his voice wavering.

Claude looks towards the living room, and for the first time Felix realizes that there’s something playing on the television. It sounds like the evening news broadcast. Felix pushes past Claude and Annette to get a better view, a heavy weight settling in the pit of his stomach as he takes in what’s in front of him.

It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to the blinking white and red lights of the emergency vehicles being shown on screen, but eventually his brain registers that he’s viewing an overhead shot of the aftermath of a traffic accident. The words emanating from the television come to him distorted and dreamlike as if he’s hearing them underwater, each new phrase hammering away at his core.

_Drunk driver_

_Head-on collision_

_Two Blue Lions players in one of the vehicles_

_Blaiddyd in critical condition_

_Fraldarius dead on the scene_

_No._ Felix’s legs go weak. The flashing lights on the television blur in the corners of his vision as he doubles over and falls to his knees, gasping for breath. _Glenn –_

“Felix!” Annette’s shriek comes to him as if from very far away.

The last thing he remembers is the sound of the sirens ringing in his ears before everything goes black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this originally exclusively horny story now has Angst™ and Feelings™. Apologies in advance.
> 
> Also, thank you all so much for 100+ kudos so far! I really do cherish every single comment, retweet, and message I get about my writing. It means so much to me to see people enjoying this fic. <3
> 
> Come talk about Sylvix with me on Twitter at [@redxcranberry](https://twitter.com/redxcranberry)! As always, a huge thank you to [Ren](https://twitter.com/hanzohoemada) for beta'ing, brainstorming, and being an amazing source of support. <3


	4. Chapter 4

Glenn’s funeral is held on a calm, sunny day like any other. It’s chilly out, being midwinter, but apart from that the weather is serene, even beautiful for such a horrible occasion.

It surprises Felix, at first. He had always envisioned that an event like this would be overwhelmingly somber; it should be held during a downpour, maybe, or at the very least under overcast skies. Rationally, Felix knows that he’s being ridiculous, childish, by expecting it to storm like it does in the movies when something bad happens. But the bright sunlight streaming through the car window as they drive to the graveyard is just another stark reminder that the world doesn’t care that Glenn is gone, that Felix has barely been holding it together since that night, that this is easily one of the worst days of his life.

Felix and his father take their places at the graveside as Glenn’s eulogy is read to the gathered crowd. Glenn’s teammates, the rest of the Blue Lions – sans Dimitri, who is recovering in the hospital – stand to one side, heads bowed as the speaker drones on about _a life cut short_ and the necessity of _finding strength in tragedy_ and how _everything happens for a reason_.

The paparazzi are there too, of course, football writers and gossip magazine reporters all vying to get a photo of the deceased sports icon’s grieving friends and family. The bright bursts of their snapping cameras remind Felix of the flashing sirens at the scene of the accident, an image that he can’t manage to erase from his mind no matter how hard he tries.

As they lower the closed casket into the ground, Felix’s father mumbles something under his breath. It’s not directed at Felix, but he hears it all the same.

 _At least Glenn died a star_.

Felix clenches his fists, sharp fingernails pressing tiny white crescents into the meat of his palms as the coffin disappears from view.

❖❖❖

**Sylvain:** Felix, I just heard what happened. i’m so sorry

 **Sylvain:** hey, checking in again. it’s been a few days and i wanted see if you’re doing okay

 **Sylvain:** Felix, I’m sorry if I’m bothering you

 **Sylvain:** just wanted to let you know I’m always here if you want to talk

Felix stares down at the series of unanswered messages with a mixture of guilt and anxiety. He knows he should respond. He owes it to Sylvain. But he just can’t seem to find the words.

Felix has never been big on talking in general, but lately he’s found it much easier not to deal with people at all. Really, he’s not in a state to do much of anything. Ever since the funeral, he’s only been leaving the apartment to get food and keep up with the bare minimum requirements for his classes. He’s even broken his long running streak of going to the gym to train, a habit that he had previously treated as a sacrosanct part of his daily routine. Every once in a while, he’ll venture outside his room to sit on the couch and mindlessly watch television.

It’s on one of these occasions that Felix is flipping between various channels when he finds himself tuning in to the local sports network. Felix stares at the television through weary eyes, half listening to a few ads for pickup trucks and light beer before the commercial break ends and the show’s logo flashes across the screen, the animation accompanied by a catchy fanfare.

“We’re back with the latest news on all things football,” the host announces. “Of course, the biggest story right now is the fallout from the tragic accident that left Blue Lions wide receiver Glenn Fraldarius dead and seriously injured star quarterback Dimitri Blaiddyd. Police say Blaiddyd was driving one of the vehicles involved in the crash, while Fraldarius was his passenger. They were on their way to a postgame celebration last Sunday when a drunk driver collided with their vehicle.”

The announcer turns to his cohost. “The question on everybody’s minds now is, will Blaiddyd recover quickly enough to lead the Lions to victory in the playoffs? The quarterback reportedly suffered a fractured arm, a few bruised ribs, and lost the use of his right eye in the incident, but he is otherwise expected to make a full recovery.”

 _Of course Dimitri is all they care about_ , Felix thinks, bile rising in the back of his throat.

“Sure,” the other host answers, “the Lions have a lot of talent on the field – especially with Molinaro on defense – but The Prince has always been the secret to their explosive offense and strength. They don’t have what it takes to face the best teams in the league this postseason if he’s still down and out.”

“Agreed. The Blue Lions would be lucky to even make it to the Super Bowl, and I’m not sure about their chances against the defending champions even if Blaiddyd does come back. One thing’s for certain – Blaiddyd is their most important player right now, and they’re lucky he’s even still in once piece.

Felix tightens his grip on the remote, his fingers turning white.

“Hey.”

Felix flinches at the noise, whipping his head around to search for its source.

“Don’t worry. It’s just me.” Felix had been staring at the screen so intently that he hadn’t noticed Claude enter the room. Claude walks over and tentatively sits on the arm of the couch. Felix tenses up and apprehensively eyes him, but he doesn’t turn away.

“Maybe you should take a break from all this,” Claude offers cautiously, gesturing towards the television. “You know, try to get your mind off of things for a while.”

Felix stares forward, motionless, and Claude sighs. “Felix, I’m worried about you.”

“I’m fine.”

“It’s okay to not be fine, you know.”

Felix says nothing, just gazes at the television as the announcers’ voices drone on in the background.

Claude takes a deep breath. “Annette told me you haven’t said a word to her since the funeral. You haven’t been answering your phone, you’ve barely been going to class–”

“I _said,_ I’m fine.” It comes out harsher than he means it to.

Claude’s comforting gaze falters for a moment before he recovers. He stands up, and Felix feels a twinge of regret. “Alright. I’m sorry. Just…try not to shut yourself off from the rest of the world too much, okay?”

Felix nods. He knows he should apologize, but finding the words seems like an impossible task right now. Claude takes his leave, and Felix winces as he hears the door to Claude’s room close.

Claude’s words bounce around the inside of Felix’s head as he turns off the television. In truth, Felix knows that staying inside 24/7 with only his roommate for human contact can’t be the healthiest coping mechanism out there – but it’s a hell of a lot easier than the alternative of, god forbid, talking about his feelings. Letting Sylvain or Annette or any of his other friends see him this way is the last thing he’d like to do. Who would he even _want_ to see at a time like this?

Felix sighs, looking about the room as if searching for answers. His gaze lands on something small and rectangular sitting on the bookshelf, and he stands up and walks over to get a closer look.

It’s slightly askew from when Sylvain had picked it up and returned it to its place the other day, but the picture is otherwise largely untouched among the rest of the knickknacks on the shelf. There’s his younger self, wide-eyed and exuberant, and Glenn staring down at him, older and stronger and wiser in every way.

But the third boy in the picture is what catches Felix’s attention. Felix picks up the picture and gently brushes a thin film of dust off the glass, revealing a pair of striking, ice blue eyes.

❖❖❖

The hospital visitors’ lounge is dull and bleak as can be, with a squeaky clean, white linoleum floor and harsh fluorescent lighting that casts everything in a washed out gray. A few other visitors are sitting in the waiting area amid a steady hum of activity from the nurses and doctors, who come and go to usher patients and their loved ones back and forth.

Felix signs his name on the check in sheet at the reception counter then awkwardly takes a seat, tapping his foot nervously in time with each passing second.

“F-Felix Fraldarius?” A nurse is standing at the front of the room, her long, light blue hair pinned up in intricate braids around the back of her head. Her voice is soft and sweet and she gives Felix a small smile when he looks towards her. The bags under her eyes and the pallor of her skin make Felix want to give her a warm cup of tea and wrap her in a blanket or something. Felix sighs as he raises his hand. He probably doesn’t look much better.

“Right here.”

“Here to see a patient by the name of Blaiddyd?”

“Yes.”

“Come with me.”

Felix grabs his bag and follows the nurse, who leads him down a maze of hallways lined with numbered doorways, past dozens of patients and attending physicians. They eventually come to a stop in front of one of the rooms. She motions to the slightly ajar door.

“He’s in there,” the nurse says quietly. “He was in a bad state at the start, but he’s been awake and stable for the past few days.”

Felix thanks her and quietly enters as the nurse takes her leave.

Dimitri is awake, reclining on the hospital bed on the other end of the room and gazing out the window contemplatively. His heavily bandaged upper half is propped up by several pillows, and a thin, clear line runs down the length of his arm and into some sort of machine monitoring his vital signs. As Felix draws closer, he realizes that there’s a white medical patch over where Dimitri’s right eye should be. The rumors must have been true – Dimitri really did lose an eye in the accident.

When Felix closes the door, Dimitri’s head snaps towards him at the sound, a shocked expression quickly flitting across his bruised face.

“Felix.”

Felix says nothing, just gives a curt nod and steps further into the room.

Dimitri breaks the silence. “You came.”

“I did.”

Felix stops a few arm’s lengths away from Dimitri and stands there awkwardly. He can’t help but notice the mound of packages at the end of Dimitri’s bed made up of piles upon piles of gifts from well-wishers. There are stacks of cards addressed to Dimitri from leagues of adoring fans, boxes of what appear to be gourmet chocolates and macaroons, shiny balloons with _get well soon_ emblazoned on them in bubbly fonts, and bouquets of flowers, all piled up on top of each other and festooned in the blue and white team colors of the Blue Lions.

Felix grits his teeth. “Are…are you okay?” Saying the words is like pulling teeth. Felix knows he should be relieved to see Dimitri, but he’s having a hard time shoring up any sympathy at the moment.

“The doctors say I should recover with enough rest.” Dimitri answers.

“That’s good.”

“I apologize that I could not be there for the funeral.”

Felix nods, averting his eyes from Dimitri’s gaze. The last thing he wants to do right now is think about Glenn’s funeral. There’s another long, poignant pause, and Felix starts to wonder why he even came here in the first place.

“Felix,” Dimitri’s voice is wavering, “I am so sorry about Glenn. I cannot express how awful I feel.”

Felix stares at the ground in front of him. “At least you’re alive.”

Felix can feel Dimitri’s unwavering stare boring into him. “I truly do feel your pain,” Dimitri insists. “Glenn was my teammate and one of my oldest, closest friends. He was like a brother to me as well.”

“But he wasn’t.”

Dimitri gives Felix a questioning look, his remaining eye studying him carefully.

“He wasn’t your brother. He was mine.” Felix feels his eyes growing damp and angrily wipes at them with the back of his hand. He can’t let himself cry in front of Dimitri, of all people.

“It was only a figure of speech–”

“He was my brother, and now he’s _dead_.”

“I am only trying to say,” Dimitri’s voice is measured, like he’s talking to a child, and Felix feels the anger buried deep within him swell once more. “I understand–”

“Understand?” Felix’s voice is getting louder now. “You can’t possibly understand.” Felix knows he’s losing control, knows he’s veering into territory he swore he wouldn’t touch, but that doesn’t matter right now. All that matters to him is that Glenn is gone and Dimitri is in front of him, injured but very much alive.

Dimitri just stares at him, unblinking, and Felix sees red.

“ _You_ were the one driving. _You_ were the reason Glenn was in that car in the first place.”

“I was careful, Felix, I swear it to you. But it all happened so fast – one minute we were on the road, and the next thing I knew I woke up here in this very bed. There wasn’t much I could do.”

“Don’t give me that _shit_.” Felix’s voice is rising, his hands balled into fists at his side. “You’re secretly happy from all the attention this has gotten you, aren’t you?” He motions to the mountain of gifts at the foot of the bed, and Dimitri winces. “Don’t have to share the limelight anymore, right? More adoring fans to fawn over you now that Glenn is gone.”

“No, I would never–”

Felix grabs the nearest card from the stack and tears it open, his eyes watering again as he looks at the scrawled message on the inside cover. “Dear Dimitri,” Felix reads aloud derisively, “Get well soon! We’ll need you for the playoffs.” He throws it at Dimitri, who doesn’t even flinch. Somehow, that makes Felix even angrier.

“Felix, please–” The way Dimitri is staring at him, like he’s made of glass, like he’s something to be pitied – it pushes Felix over the edge.

“It should have been _you_ in that hearse, not Glenn.”

“Felix,” Dimitri starts again, but Felix isn’t interested in whatever comes out of his mouth next.

Felix turns on his heel and storms out of the room, nearly barreling into the nurse from earlier as he turns the corner. He apologies under his breath, hot pinpricks stinging the corners of his eyes and his heart pounding ferociously as he rushes back through the twisting corridors, past the waiting room, and out the door of the hospital.

There’s a bench outside the hospital’s entrance. He collapses onto its iron frame, taking deep gulps of air. A familiar tightness constricts his chest and he sobs, finally giving in to the tears he’s been holding back for what feels like an eternity. Felix’s body trembles as he tries to steady his breaths, closing his eyes and burying his head in his hands.

He’s ashamed. Ashamed to display his feelings in a way he had always regarded as a sign of weakness. Ashamed at lashing out at Dimitri through no fault of his own. Ashamed that the dam has finally broken and afraid that he won’t be able to close his emotional floodgates now that they’ve been flung open.

Eventually, he recovers enough to slowly stand up and start walking home. He pulls his phone out of his pocket. There are a few lines from his father about arrangements for the funeral, condolences from Annette, and several other unanswered texts. Near the top of the screen is Sylvain’s most recent message: _I’m always here if you want to talk._

Felix presses the call icon and holds the phone to his ear. It rings once, then twice.

 _Please pick up_.

“Felix?” Sylvain’s voice is a safe harbor in a stormy sea, the familiar tone soothing Felix over the line almost immediately.

“Sylvain.” His own voice sounds raw and strained. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry about what?”

“I should have called you earlier. I just–”

“Felix,” Sylvain says gently, and it amazes Felix how much affection Sylvain manages to fit into a single word. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

There’s a beat, then Felix sighs. “I wish I could hug you right now.”

“Where are you?” Sylvain questions.

“I’m headed home. Why?”

“I’ll see you soon.”

Sylvain is leaning against the wall outside Felix’s apartment when he returns. Felix’s heart leaps at the sight of him. He hadn’t realized how much he’d been denying himself by cutting Sylvain out of his life, even if only for a short while.

As Felix draws closer, Sylvain sees his tear-stained face and seems to hesitate. “If you still want space, I can come back another time.”

“No,” Felix chokes out, grabbing onto Sylvain’s coat and resting his head on the taller man's chest. “Stay.”

And Sylvain does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the wait on this chapter update! I wanted to keep a better schedule by publishing close to once a week, but then life happened. If only I could write fic 24/7 instead. :)
> 
> If you've made it this far, thank you so much from the bottom of my heart for reading! <3 Only two chapters left! We're heading into the home stretch for this fic...the clock is running out...it's the bottom of the 9th...okay, I'll stop it with the sports metaphors. 
> 
> Come talk about Sylvix with me on Twitter at [@redxcranberry](https://twitter.com/redxcranberry)! And huge thanks to [Ren](https://twitter.com/hanzohoemada) for putting up with my late night ramblings and last minute beta requests. <3


	5. Chapter 5

After seeing the state Felix is in after Glenn’s death, Sylvain insists on staying at Felix’s place for a while – _no ifs_ , _ands, or buts about it,_ Sylvain tells him – and Felix is secretly happy for the redhead’s persistence. Sylvain runs home briefly to grab his toothbrush, some extra clothes, and other essentials, then he’s right back on Felix’s doorstep. And for the first time in a long time, Felix allows himself to be taken care of.

The next few days are a mess of tangled limbs, ruddy cheeks, and tear-stained sheets. Sylvain comforts Felix with his loving gaze, its sincerity grounding and soothing Felix when he feels like he’s going to fall apart again; through the way he runs his gentle fingers across Felix’s scalp and combs through his tangled locks; in the words of devoted reassurance he whispers into his ear when Felix needs to hear them the most. But the biggest source of comfort for Felix is simply Sylvain’s presence. It’s the arm around his waist and the solid, radiating warmth beside him in bed as they drift off to sleep. It’s the cup of his favorite tea, freshly brewed by Sylvain, waiting for him on the bedside table every morning when he wakes.

A lot of the time, they sit cross-legged on Felix’s bed and just talk. About themselves, about each other, about things as inconsequential as the weather outside and as deep-seated as their hopes and dreams. And when Felix feels up to it, they talk about Glenn, too.

Felix tells Sylvain about his favorite memories and stories from growing up, some of which he himself hasn’t thought of in years, his recollections shrouded in the hazy mist of early childhood and the long march of the years since. He reminisces about tossing a ball around with Glenn when they were children, about vowing to one day be bigger and stronger than his older brother in every way, about how Glenn was the best role model his younger self ever could have imagined. He remembers how excited he was when Glenn was in high school and started getting scouted by top college teams, how he wouldn’t stop bragging about his big brother’s achievements to anyone who would listen – to the detriment of Annette, who had her ear talked off by a very proud, preteen Felix.

“And when he made the team for the Blue Lions,” Felix continues, “it was everything he’d ever dreamt of. He was so happy. I just–” Felix’s voice cracks, and he clears his throat. “I just wish he’d had longer to enjoy it.”

“I know. Me too,” Sylvain says, looking at Felix with a sad smile. “I wish I could have met him.”

“I wish you could have, too.” Felix says.

Felix reaches over to pour himself another cup of tea. The rejuvenating scent of fresh pine fills the room as he settles back onto the bed, mug in hand. He sits in Sylvain’s lap and rests his head on his boyfriend’s chest – and _oh_ , Felix realizes with a start, how amazing it is to call Sylvain his own. Sylvain runs his hands through Felix’s inky strands and the two enjoy a comfortable silence for a moment, each lost in thought.

After a few minutes, Sylvain is the first to speak. “My older brother, Miklan…wasn’t exactly a role model when I was growing up.”

Felix says nothing, just leans further into Sylvain, silently encouraging him to continue.

Sylvain takes a deep breath. “I was the golden child. Always on my best behavior, excelling in school, doing anything my parents wanted to stay in their good graces…I was the favorite, and Miklan knew it.”

Felix can’t see Sylvain’s expression in his current position, but by the tone of his voice he’d guess it’s not a happy one.

“He made my life a living hell whenever he could. Then he fell in with the wrong crowd. Started getting into petty theft and then worse.” Sylvain sighs. “By the time he was arrested and sent to prison, my parents had already written him off as a lost cause.”

“Where is he now?” Felix asks.

Sylvain lets out a short, humorless laugh. “To tell the truth, he could be dead for all I know.”

“Oh.” Felix studies the hot steam coiling and twisting in the air above his cup.

“It’s alright.” Sylvain says. “What I’m trying to say is – I never got to experience the type of brotherly love with Miklan that you did with Glenn. But I have mourned the kind of relationship that we could have had.”

Felix leans forward to set down his mug, then turns around so he’s face-to-face with Sylvain. “Glenn would have liked you, you know,” he says quietly.

“How do you know that?”

Felix shrugs, his cheeks burning scarlet. “Because you make me happy.” It’s a simple, sappy answer, but it’s the truth.

Now it’s Sylvain’s turn to blush. “You make me happy too, Fe.”

Felix glances up at Sylvain through his eyelashes. The way Sylvain is looking at him is full of awe, almost reverent in its tenderness. The staccato _thump thump_ of Felix’s heart quickens as Sylvain delicately raises a hand to his face. Sylvain cradles his jaw for a moment, then tilts Felix’s head upward just so as their lips touch.

Felix melts into Sylvain’s warm embrace, letting out a content sigh as Sylvain adjusts his position in order to kiss him deeper and deeper. They break apart for a moment for air, and Sylvain runs his thumb along Felix’s chin as Felix stares back at him, wide eyed. A heady rush of affection surges through Felix’s body, emanating from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. He pulls Sylvain back into his open arms and they softly tumble back onto the bed, wrapped up in one another as the rest of the world fades away.

It’s different, this time. There’s no heavy panting or frantic undressing, just Sylvain’s sweet mouth on his and Sylvain’s warm skin pressed against his chest. They take their time exploring every dip and curve of each other’s bodies as they move together in sync. Felix studies Sylvain’s various scars and birthmarks with the sort of devotion and desperation that only comes with being in love, taking care to commit the freckled expanse of Sylvain’s skin to his memory as Sylvain does the same to him in turn. And when Felix finally comes, it’s with Sylvain’s name on his lips and Sylvain’s arms holding him close, their hot breaths mingling together in the morning air as they slowly come back down to reality.

❖❖❖

It takes a while, but eventually Felix starts feeling well enough to watch the Blue Lions play again. Shortly after the accident, he hadn’t wanted anything to do with football – every second was an unwelcome reminder of Glenn’s absence. But over time, settling back into the easy familiarity of Sunday night games becomes almost cathartic to him, less of a painful experience and more of a therapeutic activity. Glenn may not be there anymore, but rooting on his brother’s team makes Felix feel like a part of him is still there with him.

To everyone’s surprise, the Blue Lions are doing well despite losing Glenn and having Dimitri temporarily unable to play due to his injuries. There are some close calls and nail-biting comebacks, but they make it through the first round of the playoffs unscathed, and Felix and Sylvain celebrate by getting a bit too tipsy at Hooters and going out for a night of karaoke with Hilda and Dorothea afterwards. Felix thinks he falls even deeper in love when the redhead dramatically serenades with him a spirited rendition of “Every Time We Touch” as Dorothea and Hilda giggle and make kissy faces at him in the background. It’s as much of a return to normalcy as Felix could have hoped for given the circumstances, and he’s never appreciated his newfound friends more than he does in that moment. He also apologizes to Claude for his behavior the other day, who immediately accepts. Sometimes Felix wonders how someone as grouchy as himself found friends that are just so _nice_.

It also becomes apparent as the weeks go by that Dimitri is recovering well enough to return to his position as starting quarterback. There’s initially a lot of speculation among the press on whether a one-eyed man can compete at all, but all doubts are allayed after Dimitri leads the Blue Lions to a blowout victory against the Ashen Wolves in the semifinals. There’s only one game standing between the Blue Lions and the Super Bowl against the defending champions, the Black Eagles – a rematch against the Golden Deer for the conference title.

This causes a not insignificant amount of competitiveness from Claude, who is convinced the Deer will get revenge for their loss earlier in the season. On the night of the showdown, Claude invites his friend and Golden Deer superfan Leonie over to the apartment to watch the game with Felix and Sylvain. They chat and crack open a few beers during the pregame show, and the friendly banter starts almost immediately.

“I’m just saying,” Claude says, “I know we’re underdogs what with Dimitri being back and all, but I wouldn’t count us out. Deer are way better than lions, anyway.”

“You’re insane,” Felix scoffs. “You’re seriously telling me that _deer_ of all animals are better than lions?”

“Deer are majestic creatures,” Leonie interjects. “Plus, you can’t beat our team motto.” She motions to her chest, where _FEAR THE DEER_ is written in large gold font above the team’s logo as Claude nods sagely in agreement.

“How about…hmm,” Sylvain says, pensive. “Lions ain’t lying?”

“That’s the worst slogan I’ve ever heard,” Felix says, rolling his eyes. But he can’t stop the hint of a smile from pulling at the corner of his mouth as Sylvain shrugs, grinning unashamedly.

It’s a hard fought battle, but in the end Dimitri leads the Lions to another victory. Claude reluctantly congratulates Felix and Sylvain, while Leonie looks as though she might cry. But her mood is soon lifted when Claude enthusiastically ropes her and Sylvain into planning a Super Bowl party for all their friends with promises of mountains of food and drinks.

As the confetti falls and Dimitri walks up to the podium to accept the conference trophy, Felix feels a rush of guilt at the way he left things with Dimitri when they last saw each other. He knows he was unfair to him. But apologizing has never been Felix’s strong suit, and he tries to ignore it.

Yet that pesky feeling lasts all through the night and early into the next morning, when Felix finally concedes that delaying addressing his guilty conscience is a fool’s errand. He anxiously shoots off a few texts to Dimitri, half expecting to not get a response at all. It’s not every day that your former childhood best friend tells you he wishes you were dead, so he wouldn’t exactly blame Dimitri if he didn’t want to speak to him again. But to his surprise, Dimitri responds nearly immediately, cordial as always, asking if he’s free to meet up at a nearby café.

Felix gets dressed to leave, taking care not to make too much noise. It’s only when he opens the door that Sylvain notices he’s left the bed.

“Mmm?” Sylvain raises his head, still half asleep. “Everything alright, babe?”

“Yeah, just going out. I’ll be back soon,” Felix promises as Sylvain grunts in affirmation and rolls back over to doze once more. “There’s someone I need to see.”

❖❖❖

Felix arrives at the café five minutes early and orders a cup of coffee, black as night. He chooses a table in a nook by the window and positions himself so that he can observe the entrance and see everyone coming and going, a nervous habit of his that keeps him on his toes. The light drizzle outside when Felix had arrived becomes a steady thrum of fat raindrops pounding against the glass as Felix sips on his drink and waits.

Dimitri gets there not long after, the bell above the entrance tinkling to announce his arrival. He’s dressed down today in just a pair of jeans and a hoodie, likely to avoid being recognized and harassed by any zealous fans, though Felix has to wonder how effective that is when his newly obtained eye patch is more than enough to draw attention on its own. Dimitri shakes a few droplets of water off his umbrella and scans the store for Felix. They make eye contact, and his face lights up in recognition.

“You came,” Felix says as Dimitri approaches.

“I did.” Dimitri takes the open seat across from Felix and rests his arms on the table, silently surveying him.

A minute passes, and then another. Dimitri may have lost half his field of vision, but the penetrating stare his remaining eye is shooting Felix more than makes up for the deficit.

“I–” They both start speaking at the same time, then stop.

“Please, you go first,” Dimitri offers. “I insist.”

Felix stares into the depths of his coffee. He cups his hands around the warm ceramic vessel and inhales, drawing strength from its heat. “I shouldn’t have said what I said to you.”

Dimitri nods, and more words come flowing out of Felix’s mouth before he can stop them.

“I didn’t mean any of it. When you were in the hospital, all I could think about was…was how much I wanted Glenn to be there, too.”

A pained look crosses Dimitri’s face. “I know. I was thinking the same.”

“But it’s not your fault, and it never was.” Felix shifts in his seat, forcing himself to make eye contact with the man across from him. “I’m sorry.”

“I accept your apology.”

Felix gives Dimitri a weak smile, relieved at his friend’s easy acceptance but still feeling a twinge of guilt. “You were about to say something.”

Dimitri casts his gaze downward, and for the first time Felix notices a patchwork of angry scars surrounding Dimitri’s eye patch. “I am sorry that I could not do more to save Glenn–”

“I just told you, it wasn’t your fault,” Felix says. His interjection catches Dimitri off guard, and the blond man hesitates. “I’m glad you’re alive,” Felix adds. “You’re one of my oldest friends. I – I couldn’t lose you, too.”

“Thank you, Felix.”

There’s another short period of silence, interrupted only by the ambient noises of the café and the muffled drumming of the rain against the foggy window. But now that Felix’s apology is out in the open, it’s a much more comfortable break from conversation. Sitting with Dimitri like this almost makes Felix feel like they’re both boys again, back when they had worries no larger than getting good marks in school.

“How has getting back into football been?” Felix asks.

“It has been a challenge,” Dimitri says, “but I have been steadily regaining my strength, and I am even learning how to adjust to recent events.” He taps his eye patch.

“I’ll be rooting for you,” Felix says. “You guys crush the Eagles for me, all right?”

“We’ll try our best,” Dimitri says with a grin. “But no promises. They are a formidable opponent.” Dimitri pulls out his phone to check the time. “Speaking of football, I should likely be leaving soon. Dedue and the others are practicing drills this afternoon, and I promised the team I would be there as well.”

“Of course,” Felix concedes. He finishes his coffee and they rise from the table to walk towards the exit. “Say hi to everyone for me.”

“Oh,” Dimitri says, stopping in the entryway. “I almost forgot – I have something for you.”

He reaches into his bag and out comes a flash of brilliant royal blue, its slight sheen catching the light like quicksilver. It’s a garment of some sort, and as Dimitri cautiously offers it to Felix, he realizes it’s not just any old piece of clothing.

The lightweight fabric pools in Felix’s hands. Its mesh material is soft and lightweight, and he brings it closer to inspect it more closely. Felix’s breath catches in his throat as he runs his fingers over the all-caps, block white lettering across the upper back that spells out _FRALDARIUS._ He stares down at Glenn’s old jersey, one of his brother’s most prized possessions.

“Dimitri, I–”

“No need to thank me,” Dimitri insists. “It is rightfully yours.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Felix jokes, but there’s no malice in his voice. He turns the jersey over in his hands, feeling his eyes moisten despite his best efforts to remain stoic. “Thank you, anyway.”

“It was the least I could do. Glenn would have wanted you to have it.”

Felix pulls up the hood to his coat as Dimitri unfurls his umbrella, and the two step out into the rain.

“Dimitri,” Felix blurts out. Dimitri stops in his tracks and looks back towards Felix, expectant. “Good luck out there.”

“Thank you, Felix,” Dimitri says, the smallest of smiles spreading across his face. It’s the most genuine expression Felix has seen him have since the accident. He gives Felix a small wave goodbye, rain bouncing off his umbrella in the moist air when he turns to leave.

Felix watches him go, clutching Glenn’s jersey over his heart as Dimitri walks around the corner and disappears from view.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for reading! <3 Only one chapter left! I am working on a few other fics for Sylvix week so I may take a break from this one, but expect the final chapter to be up within the next month or so at the latest.
> 
> To the very, very small number of people with me in overlap of the venn diagram between FE3H fans and NFL fans: yes, I know that there isn't an American football team named after deer, but there is an NBA team called the Bucks, so close enough. And yes, I know that the (Detroit/Blue) Lions and the (Philadelphia/Black) Eagles could never actually be in the Super Bowl together because they're both in the NFC. Creative license, y'all.
> 
> Also, that implies that Faerghus is Michigan IRL, and that...actually kind of fits? But that means that Adrestia is Pennsylvania, and I don't even know where to start with that.
> 
> Come talk about Sylvix with me on Twitter at [@redxcranberry](https://twitter.com/redxcranberry)!


	6. Chapter 6

As the day of the championship approaches, Claude and Leonie put their plan for the watch party into motion, both of them chattering away with excitement over the possibilities in the week leading up to the event. Claude spends hours mulling over what to get for food – which they order from Hooters using Sylvain’s employee discount, of course. They eventually decide on a mountain of different kinds of buffalo wings (Felix requests an order of the spiciest flavor available) and a plethora of other incredibly greasy yet delicious appetizers. Meanwhile, Leonie claims responsibility for the alcoholic drinks, promising to provide fruity cocktails, margarita mixes, shots, and everything in between to best enhance the game-watching experience. And from the stories Felix has heard from Claude about Leonie’s ability to hold her own with the best of them, he has no doubts that she knows how to put on a good time.

Game day arrives before they know it. The sun is just starting to rise in the wintry Sunday morning sky when Felix wakes with Sylvain’s arm wrapped tightly around him. To tell the truth, Sylvain has essentially moved in with him at this point, though Felix is planning on proposing that they get their own place together soon enough so they can get out of Claude’s hair. He’s been more than accommodating of their cohabitation situation so far. But Felix has a feeling he’s not too enthused about the copious amounts of PDA that Sylvain initiates on the daily.

Felix admires Sylvain’s sleeping form for a moment then carefully gets out of bed and heads over to his dresser. He takes Glenn’s jersey from where he’s been storing it for safekeeping and puts it on, its flowing fabric enveloping him in subtly shifting shades of blue and silver. Turning toward the mirror, Felix smiles softly at his reflection. It’s not a perfect fit – Glenn had always been a bit shorter, and the hem rides up slightly around Felix’s waist – but it’s good enough. Wearing Glenn’s jersey brings Felix a sense of peace. And although he’s never been a superstitious person, he has a hunch that his brother’s most treasured possession could bring the Blue Lions good luck in the game tonight. He quickly shoots off a text to Dimitri letting him know that he’s rooting for him and receives a heartfelt thank you in response.

There’s a nervous sort of excitement in the air later that morning when Claude, Leonie, Felix, and Sylvain regroup at the apartment to go over preparations. While Claude and Leonie coordinate the food and drinks, Sylvain and Felix are put in charge of gathering party supplies and decorations. And although interior design isn’t exactly Felix’s cup of tea, he can’t help but indulge Sylvain when the redhead’s eyes light up at the prospect of decking out the apartment in full Blue Lions regalia.

It’s not long before Sylvain drags Felix along to their local Party City to look for party supplies and decorations – a place Felix would have absolutely refused to set foot in if not for Sylvain’s persistent pleading and puppy dog eyes. They spend far too long wandering up and down the aisles and playing with the various celebratory knick knacks for sale, many of which Felix wouldn’t be caught dead purchasing on his own. There are so many options it’s almost overwhelming – there’s a rainbow of different colors of silly string (Felix mouths _I will kill you_ when Sylvain picks up a can and jokingly aims it at him), handheld firecrackers that Felix is 100% sure would be in violation of his apartment’s fire code, giant glow sticks that Sylvain uses to challenge Felix to an impromptu sword fight in the middle of the store (Felix wins), and bunches of balloons in every hue and shape imaginable.

He eventually convinces Felix to pull the trigger on a few blue and silver streamers and some balloons to match, along with some Lions-themed plates and napkins for the absolutely ridiculous quantities of snacks that Claude has promised to provide. Nothing too crazy, but definitely enough to make their place look festive and drum up some team spirit.

After a few hours of festooning the apartment (which at one point involves Felix balancing precariously on top of Sylvain’s shoulders in order to affix streamers to a few hard-to-reach spots), Felix has to admit that everything looks great. He stands in the middle of the kitchen and surveys their handiwork. Between the blue and silver crepe paper strung across each doorway, the balloons bobbing along the ceiling, and the color-coordinated silverware, the place is looking positively festive.

“How do I look?”

Felix turns to see Sylvain emerging from the bathroom, a jar of royal blue face paint in one hand. Two thick lines of color run across the tops of his cheekbones, a perfect match with his custom jersey that has GAUTIER written across its back in big, blocky letters. He wiggles his eyebrows at Felix, flashing him a wide smile as he points to his cheeks.

“More than a little ridiculous,” Felix answers, “but good. You always look good.”

“Aw, thanks Fe! You look good too, you know.” Sylvain throws an arm around Felix and ruffles his hair, then gives him a quick kiss on the forehead. Felix’s cheeks flare crimson as he feels a wave of affection surge through his body starting from where Sylvain’s lips made contact with his skin. He briefly considers running his fingers through Sylvain’s auburn locks and pulling him down for a real kiss, but they’re interrupted by the sound of the front door opening.

“Food’s here!” Claude announces. He carries a towering pile of catering boxes across the room and sets them down on the kitchen counter with a solid _thump_. Leonie follows shortly afterward with several bags’ worth of what looks like enough alcohol to knock out an elephant.

“This is…a LOT of stuff.” Sylvain stands before the counter with his hands on his hips, eyebrows raised.

“The more, the merrier!” Claude says with a laugh.

Leonie concurs. “We may not be able to watch the Deer play tonight, but I’m still planning on having a good time!”

They’re halfway through emptying the bags when the musical chime of the doorbell announces the arrival of their first guests.

“I’ll get it,” Felix offers. Sylvain gives him a thumbs up then turns to continue helping set up the food and drinks.

Felix walks over to open the door and finds Annette and Mercedes smiling back at him. Both of them are decked out from head to toe in Blue Lions gear, visions of shining silver and deep blue in their custom jerseys with sparkly pom-poms and puffy foam fingers that read _WE’RE #1!_ in all caps. In addition to all the fan gear, Annette is precariously balancing a container with something large and rectangular inside it between her outstretched arms.

“Felix!” Annette squeaks out, nearly dropping the box as she bounces up and down on the balls of her feet in excitement.

“Hello, Felix!” Mercedes gives him a soft smile. “We have something for you!”

“Nice to see you guys,” Felix says. “Is this for the party?”

Annette gives a quick nod, then proudly presents what she’s holding to Felix as Mercedes leans over to lift up the lid and let Felix peek inside. “We wanted to show some team spirit, so we decided to make a Blue Lions-themed treat for everyone to enjoy! Well, Mercie made most of it.”

It’s a white vanilla cake carefully decorated by hand – one of Mercedes’ specialties. The words _Go Blue Lions!_ are emblazoned across the top in looping, royal blue frosting above an expertly drawn rendition of the team’s logo: a fierce lion opening its mouth to roar. Felix has never had a sweet tooth, but even he has to admit it looks quite appealing.

“Thank you,” Felix can feel himself blushing at his friends’ thoughtfulness. “This is amazing.”

“Happy to help,” Mercedes says cheerily. “Thank you for inviting us over.”

“Of course – come right in.” Felix motions to the kitchen, where Sylvain is precariously balancing several cases of beer in his arms as he walks towards Leonie at the drinks station. “We’re just getting everything set up now.”

“Ooh, look at all the pretty decorations!” Annette glances about the room at the balloons and streamers, her eyes sparkling. “Who set all this up?”

“Sylvain and I did.”

“Felix Hugo Fraldarius, voluntarily decorating for a party?” Mercedes brings a hand to her mouth in mock surprise then giggles. “Sylvain really brings out the best in you, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah.” Felix feels himself flushing red again at the sincerity of his own admission. “He really does.”

After introducing Sylvain to Mercedes and Annette (who immediately begin asking Sylvain mortifying questions about the details of their relationship, much to Felix’s embarrassment), Felix spends the better part of the next hour playing the role of gracious host. He’s not normally a party person, but he’s greatly enjoying the jovial atmosphere. He takes turns manning the door with Claude to welcome each new guest and give impromptu tours of the apartment then helps Leonie mix a variety of boozy concoctions suited to each of their friends’ specific tastes. There’s Linhardt, who arrives fashionably late as always with his boisterous friend, Caspar, in tow; Hilda, who brings along Raphael, an absolute tank of a man whose size alone has Felix questioning whether they actually did order enough food for everyone; and Ashe, Felix’s old roommate, who made a bowl of his famous spicy seven-layer dip that makes Felix’s mouth salivate and his stomach rumble. Many of them have brought additional offerings of home baked goods and wine, which Felix adds to the ever-growing spread laid out in the kitchen.

Shortly before the game is set to begin, Dorothea arrives with all of her usual flourish, dressed to the nines in Black Eagles paraphernalia. If Annette and Mercedes went all out for the Blue Lions, Dorothea is giving them a run for their money with her support for her team. She’s wearing a Black Eagles shirt cropped just above her hips along with bright crimson face paint in the form of glittery hearts dotted across her cheeks. Upon closer inspection, she even has eagle-shaped earrings, their tiny silver wings sparkling in the light.

“Thea!” Sylvain exclaims, throwing his arms open as he comes over to say hello.

“Syl!” Dorothea smiles wide and gives Sylvain a quick hug. “It’s good to see you.” She eyes Sylvain up and down, then frowns slightly. “Not to be rude, but I hate your outfit.”

“Right back at you,” Sylvain says with a grin.

“It’s alright.” Dorothea laughs, her emerald eyes glinting with determination. “I’ll be here to console you after your precious Lions lose tonight.”

“We’ll see about that.”

“What do you think, Felix?” Dorothea asks.

“I have faith in Dimitri and the rest of the team,” Felix answers, “but the Black Eagles will be a tough team to beat.”

“See? ‘A tough team to beat,’ he says,” Dorothea preens.

“You know,” Sylvain counters, “in real life, a lion would rip an eagle to shreds.”

“Threatening the other team isn’t very good sportsmanship, Syl.”

Sylvain and Dorothea continue to banter, but Felix is distracted by the sight of Claude across the room, who’s surrounded by a semicircle of other party guests. He’s laughing and smiling as he collects something from each of them before jotting down a few lines on a notepad in his other hand. After a moment, the crowd around Claude disperses and Felix watches from afar as Claude happily stuffs what looks suspiciously like a wad of cash into the back pocket of his jeans.

“Excuse me for a moment,” Felix mutters, “I’m going to go check on the co-host.” Dorothea and Sylvain nod and enthusiastically continue trading lighthearted jabs with each other.

Felix marches over to meet his roommate, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow as he approaches. “What are you doing?”

“Felix!” Claude grins wide, casually leaning against the wall behind him. “Want to put some money down?”

“Money down for what?”

“The game, of course. I’ve got the over under at 50 points tonight. Or you can bet on the Lions outright! The Eagles have the edge, so I’m taking two to one odds.”

Felix groans, bringing a hand to his forehead. “Is this legal?”

“Hey, I don’t have a dog in this fight, so I’m just trying to have some fun.” Claude wiggles his eyebrows. “You interested or no? I’ve already got several takers, and you could make some real coin if you’re feeling lucky tonight.”

“Absolutely not. If you think I’m foolish enough to risk my own money on another one of your schemes–”

“Claude!” Sylvain reappears from behind Felix. “What’s up?”

“I’m taking bets on the game tonight. Want in?”

“Hell yeah I do!” Sylvain grins.

“Smart move.” Claude pulls out the notebook, his pencil poised above the paper as he tilts his head. “What for?”

“I’ll put fifty dollars on the Lions.”

“Perfect!” Claude smirks as Sylvain rifles around in his pockets and Felix tries very hard to hide his scowl. “You won’t regret it.”

Sylvain finds what he’s looking for and hands Claude a few crisp bills. “Here you go.”

“Thanks for your business!” Claude gives Sylvain and Felix a quick little wave, then excuses himself ( _likely to look for more marks_ , Felix thinks).

Felix rolls his eyes as Sylvain looks at him quizzically. “What? I’ve got a good feeling about tonight.”

Felix opens his mouth to say something, but he’s interrupted by a different redhead peeking her head around the corner. “Game’s starting!” Leonie shouts, her ponytail swinging from side to side as she turns to head back into the living room.

“Alright, Fe,” Sylvain says enthusiastically. Most of the party guests have started to filter out of the kitchen, plates of food and drinks in hand. “Ready to watch some football?”

Felix nods. He grabs a beer and positions himself next to Sylvain on the living room couch, sinking back into the cushions as Sylvain throws his arm around his shoulders. It’s just a small gesture, but Felix can’t help but smile at the casual display of affection.

“Welcome to this year’s Super Bowl, where the defending champions, the Black Eagles, will be taking on the up and coming underdogs, the Blue Lions!” The anchor’s voice reverberates throughout the room as the party guests take their seats around the television. Each team’s logo flashes across the screen, blurs of blue and red against the emerald green backdrop of the grassy field. “Tonight, the two teams will wage a fierce battle against each other for a chance to claim the crown. Now, the game will start in just a moment. But first off, let’s go to our on-field correspondent, Cat, for some pregame analysis.”

The camera switches to a live feed of a blonde woman standing on the sidelines in front of the Blue Lions’ bench. Dimitri is standing beside her, a steely sort of determination painted plainly across his face. “Thanks, Al. I’m here with Blue Lions quarterback Dimitri Blaiddyd, who has faced more than his fair share of challenges to get to this year’s championship. Just last month, he was a victim of a tragic car accident that resulted in serious injuries as well as the loss of his friend and teammate, Glenn Fraldarius.” The reporter turns to Dimitri. “Dimitri, what would winning tonight mean to you and the rest of the team?”

“Winning would mean everything. We have made it this far thanks to the indomitable spirits of everyone on the Lions, and defeating the Eagles would be a dream come true for all of us.” Dimitri clenches his fist and gazes straight into the camera. “Even those who are no longer with us.”

“Thanks, Dimitri.” Players rush back and forth in the background, putting on gear and huddling together to discuss game plans. “Good luck out there.”

“Thank you,” Dimitri says. “I hope to win this game in Glenn’s honor.”

Felix feels his chest tighten and his breath hitch in his throat at the mention of Glenn. Hot pinpricks start to form in the corners of his eyes. As if on cue, Sylvain gives Felix’s arm a quick squeeze of reassurance as the broadcast rattles off a few statistics on each team’s star players. Felix squeezes him back, more grateful than ever for Sylvain’s grounding presence.

“Well, it’s almost time for kickoff,” the reporter chirps as Dimitri runs over to join his teammates. “Al, do you think the players are excited for tonight’s game?”

“I’m sure they’ll all have a _ball_ of a time,” the anchor chuckles, giving the camera an exaggerated wink.

The reporter shakes her head and laughs. “Alright – let’s get this show on the road!”

The shrill sound of the opening whistle signals the start of regulation. The crowd roars in response to the opening kickoff as Dimitri leads the Blue Lions down the field for their opening drive, his straw blond hair shining like a beacon under the bright lights of the stadium.

The first few minutes end in a touchdown and an extra point, much to Felix’s joy and Dorothea’s chagrin, but the Eagles blaze right back to tie it up. From that point on it’s a hard fought battle, each team forcing the other to give up possession of the ball and limiting the action to a series of field goals. Annette and Mercedes perform improvised cheers whenever the Blue Lions score, pumping their pom-poms in the air in sync. Dorothea tries to rope Linhardt into countering with a similar stunt, but her plans are foiled when he instead decides to fall asleep in the recliner he’s been sitting in all night.

Felix tries to keep one eye on the game as the night goes on and he flits between different groups of his friends. Partygoers wander about the apartment as they jump from conversation to conversation, talking about the game and the various commercials that come up every now and then. He also finds himself retelling the story of how he and Sylvain first met to anyone who asks, often receiving incredulous laughter in response ( _wait, you met at a Hooters?_ ). Sylvain embellishes the tale with a detailed description of exactly how red Felix’s face was when he first introduced himself, and Felix jokingly elbows him in the side in response. At this point, he’s learned to laugh about it with everyone else. He’s also maintaining a constant but pleasant buzz from the few drinks he’s had, the tingly haze of the alcohol allowing him to let loose in ways he normally wouldn’t.

It’s a dead tie going into halftime. Some pop star who Felix couldn’t care less about takes the stage to perform, so he takes the opportunity to grab some food and take a break from staring at the screen.

He wanders into the kitchen and gets himself a plate of extra spicy wings and a drink to to sip on. At one point, Leonie and Caspar begin a spirited game of beer pong with Linhardt as scorekeeper. The rest of the guests cheer them on, pounding their fists on tables and _oohing_ and _ahing_ at every point scored. Felix even joins in on the fun after a bit of prodding from Sylvain. They play a one-on-one game, and Felix sinks a few difficult shots against Sylvain to raucous applause from the onlookers.

“Never knew you had it in you, Felix!” Claude says with a laugh as Felix handily defeats Sylvain with a well-placed bounce into Sylvain’s cup. “Beating Sylvain at beer pong is no easy feat.”

“I’m a little rusty. Looks like I just need to practice more,” Sylvain says, cracking his knuckles and giving Felix a sly smile. “How about another round?”

After a few more games, Felix feels the room start to sway as he stands in place, so he calls it quits. He shuffles back over to the couch, where Claude, Hilda, and Dorothea are engaged in a heated discussion about the best Super Bowl halftime performances in recent years. But Felix is singularly focused on the game itself as the third quarter begins and play resumes.

The game has intensified, with both the Lions and the Eagles scoring several touchdowns in quick succession. The Eagles are slowly but steadily gaining ground, first going up by two points and then by five with an additional field goal. Felix sits on the edge of his seat for each close play, his pulse racing at each turnover and interception. When Dimitri gets tackled by an opposing linebacker and takes what looks like a particularly nasty fall, Felix nearly jumps out of his seat in concern. He ends up sighing in relief when Dimitri pops up soon after, unharmed.

“Relax, Fe.” Sylvain tries to soothe Felix’s nerves. “It’ll be alright.”

But Felix is far too invested in what’s happening on screen to let his guard down.

The Eagles are still ahead leading into the final minutes of the game, and it’s not looking good for the Lions. Dimitri is pacing back and forth on the sidelines and looking frustrated as the Lions defense does their best to hold off the Eagles’ latest blitz. When the Lions finally regain possession, he marches onto the field with purpose.

“This may be the Lions’ last chance at a comeback,” the anchor notes. “With less than two minutes left on the clock, Blaiddyd can only hope to turn the tide in his team’s favor.”

The drive starts off simply enough. The Lions are facing an uphill battle by starting at their own 20-yard line, but a few lucky throws and some quick footwork from Dimitri push them into striking distance deep in Eagles territory. There are more than a few close calls, including a near interception, yet the Lions hold on to the ball and find themselves right outside the Eagles’ end zone. All they need is a single touchdown to regain the lead, but time is running out. Second after second ticks down on the clock as they attempt a failed pass then try to run the ball, the Eagles’ intimidating defense thwarting them at every turn.

Finally, it’s fourth down at the five-yard line with five seconds to go – likely the last play of the game and the Lions’ final chance to turn things around. A timeout is called, and Dimitri takes the opportunity to huddle with his teammates. When they break, Dimitri has a confident stride and a glint in his eye that Felix knows all too well. He’s seen that expression many times before – Dimitri means business.

The ball is snapped, and the announcer narrates the action as the players begin to move about the field. “Blaiddyd takes the ball and falls back – four seconds left – he fakes a throw to his right – two seconds – now he’s running straight up the middle – he dives for the goal line–”

**_“The Blue Lions are Super Bowl champions!”_ **

Felix lets out a cheer that turns into a high-pitched yelp when Sylvain quite literally sweeps him off his feet, holding him in the air and hugging him tightly around the waist. Annette and Mercedes are overjoyed in their own right, shrieking and jumping up and down in excitement. Blue and silver confetti falls from the stadium ceiling in waves of shimmering paper and the Lions storm the field and swarm Dimitri in exaltation.

The rest of the partygoers graciously congratulate the Blue Lions fans. Even Dorothea seems to be taking her team’s loss in stride. She tells Felix and Sylvain that she’s happy for them, but vows that the Eagles will eventually get their revenge.

“We’ll be back to beat you next year,” Dorothea insists. “Isn’t that right, Lin?”

“Hmm?” Linhardt cocks his head to the side, clearly lost in thought. “Oh. Yes, I suppose so.”

Felix runs his fingers along the hem of his jersey as he watches Dimitri walk up to the podium to be named Most Valuable Player. He only wishes that Glenn were still here to be a part of all this. But he knows his brother would want him to enjoy the moment instead of dwelling on what could have been.

It’s getting late, so the guests all start to leave after a few more celebratory toasts to the Lions’ victory. Felix bids goodbye to everyone one by one as they filter out of the apartment, each visitor exchanging well wishes and promises to meet again soon.

After the last guest has taken their leave and they’ve cleaned up most of the food and drinks (the decorations will have to wait for another day), Felix and Sylvain retire to Felix’s bedroom.

“Did you have a good time tonight?” Sylvain asks as Felix closes the door behind him. He gently brushes a stray strand of hair out of Felix’s eyes.

Felix is exhausted, to tell the truth. He’s not sure the last time he partied this hard, and the residual adrenaline from watching the Blue Lions’ final drive is finally starting to seep out of his veins. But he summons enough energy to grab onto Sylvain’s jersey and pull him closer in response, mashing their lips together in a graceless yet passionate kiss. Sylvain envelops Felix in his arms as they slowly sway from side to side.

When they finally break apart, Sylvain takes one look at Felix and laughs.

“What is it?”

“You’ve got a little something on your nose there.” Sylvain raises a hand to Felix’s face and wipes at Felix’s nose with the pad of his thumb. When he pulls his hand away, his finger is tinged with a spot of bright blue face paint. “Sorry. Must have rubbed off on you when we were, you know…”

Felix smiles, his shoulders shaking with laughter. “You’re fine. I was the one who kissed you in the first place.”

“Oh!” Sylvain’s eyes widen and he reaches into his pocket to pull out his wallet. “I almost forgot. I made a tidy profit from the Lions’ win. Claude wasn’t too happy with me when I came to collect my winnings, actually – I think he expected that the Eagles would prevail and he’d get to keep all my money.”

“You’re incorrigible,” Felix mumbles, leaning in towards Sylvain and gently resting their foreheads together.

“But you love me for it,” Sylvain says with a sly grin.

“I do.”

Sylvain waves the bills in front of Felix’s eyes. “Dinner tomorrow is on me, okay? Maybe a celebratory meal at that fancy Italian restaurant. Or we could go back to the place where it all began.”

“You’ve got another thing coming if you think I’m going to eat food from Hooters two nights in a row,” Felix jokes.

“But it’d be so romantic, Fe. And hey – I could wear my uniform again, just for you.”

Felix mulls over the proposition as Sylvain gives him the most blatant come-hither stare he’s ever seen. “Mm. That does sound appealing…”

There will be time to figure out the details later – for whatever may come tomorrow, and for their shared future in the many days to come. For now, Felix simply grabs Sylvain by the hand and gently pulls him towards the bed – a wordless promise. Sylvain follows eagerly as they slide under the covers together and lock lips once more, wrapped up in one another as if they’ll never let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with this fic and making it to the end! I've had an amazing time writing it and it's bittersweet that it's finally over. Shout out to my amazing beta, [Ren](https://twitter.com/hanzohoemada), as well as to the Sylvix Squad discord server for the encouragement and suggestions along the way. 
> 
> And of course, thank you times a million to everyone who has left kudos, commented, or even just given my writing a chance. I love you all and your support and feedback means more to me than you could ever know. ♡
> 
> [Promo post!](https://twitter.com/redxcranberry/status/1322346512299532289)
> 
> If you liked this fic (shameless plug alert), check out my recent Sylvix soulmates/red thread of fate AU, [Scarlet Stitches](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26752309/chapters/65264458). Also, feel free to come talk about Sylvix with me on Twitter at [@redxcranberry](https://twitter.com/redxcranberry) \- I'm always looking to make new friends ^_^


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final update: this fic now has [accompanying art](https://twitter.com/aimlessknight/status/1329986760294666242)! Thank you so much to Lora for an absolutely beautiful drawing of the restaurant scene in the first chapter, and thank you all again for reading ♡


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